Strawberry sweet insomnia
by Gothicpug
Summary: A claw to the brain fixed most of Sabretooth's problems, but not everything. The nightmares keep him up all night, and Victor turns to the little girl he helped raise to help him. but when she turns out to be not so little, can Creed handle it?
1. Chapter 1

**Strawberry sweet insomnia. **

**Ok, Ok. I know I said I wouldn't be writing the sequel to she likes strawberries yet, but I lied. I know I have like three other fanfic that NEED updating, but this storyline has been running through my mind for days. Hell! I was planning this sequel before I'd even finished part 1! Lol**

**WARNING! Rated M for a reason. this is no longer such an innocent little tale. there will be under-age sex. so look away now if that subjact scares you. But just remember, this is a sabretooth fanfiction, you have to expect something shocking! lol**

**So, I'll stop rambling on and write, shall I?**

**Chapter 1**

A lot had changed both in, and around Sabretooth and Layla in nine years. The most notable being the loss of Creeds assistant, Birdy. She'd been killed 2 years after Layla had arrived, by Creed's own son. Layla had been devastated. She cried more for Birdy than she did for father.

Victor hadn't taken it well either. Without the glow, his mind had changed. Became savage. Brutal. He'd left after Birdy's killing, and massacred anyone he could lay his hands on. He continued to sink mentally; until he returned home one day and found Burns had had the locks changed. There had been a heated argument over the intercom, in which Burns told Victor he would not be allowed back into the house, or near Layla, until he'd managed to get help.

From this, Victor had turned to the X men for help, leading to the fateful encounter with Wolverine, in which Victor had received serious damage to his brain.

The X men had kept Victor at their mansion headquarters, longer than he liked, and once recovered, he fought his way out. Taking down Psylocke in the process. He'd been captured and placed under custardy of Valerie Cooper soon after. The bitch had fitted him with a restraining collar, leaving him unable to leave or kill at his own leisure. He was shuffled into the X factor team, as their new pet. Hell, he even had the collar for it! He'd been reunited with his old flame too. Mystique had been drafted into the team. But both Creed and Mystique were there for a purpose. And as much as Creed hated being away from Layla so long, he got the job done.

When he returned home almost two years later, Layla had just turned ten.

Victor was more than a little surprised when they'd met again. Layla had grown and was still growing, quick and strong.

Her Mutation began to show just after her 12th birthday. Victor had known she was a mutant all along. He'd smelt it on her the day she was born. It was part of the reason he wanted her in the first place.

A forming mutation was like Russian roulette. Until the child got over the main symptoms, live fever, or extremely heightened emotions, there was no real way for knowing what mutation they end up having.

Layla's mutation happened within days. It started when she collapsed during one of her home school lessons. Burns had immediately taken her to her room and called Creed, who was Ottawa on business. It hadn't taken him long to get home and to her side. She was too deep in fever to know, but Victor stayed by her bedside for the two days that she faded in and out of consciousness. Just the way Victor liked it. As she'd grown, her taunting and teasing had become playful, but with a sting to it. He had no doubt he'd have never heard the end of it if she'd have known.

She woke on the third day, over the main part of her change, but still lagging with cold like symptoms. These symptoms continued for nearly another week, until Layla, with Victor's help, healed herself, and thus revealed her mutation.

Burns had confined her to her room and her bed, still not happy with her health. This confinement almost drove her crazy, had it not been for Victor's curiosity.

"Are you checking on me again?" she whined as Victor's face appeared round the door for the twentieth time that morning. "Haven't you got people to kill?"

"Nah." He shrugged, entering her room and lazing himself down on the end of her bed. "What's wrong with me checkin' on ya?" he said. "I might be concerned fer yer welfare n'all." He added sarcastically.

Layla rolled her eyes and reached for another tissue. "Sure Vic. Sure."

They both knew why he was there. He was curious about her, yet to show, mutation. They sat for a short while, Victor seeming to drift off into his own little world.

"Maybe if we throw ya out tha window." He muttered absently.

Layla scowled, pulling and pillow from behind her back and slamming it onto his chest with as much power she could muster in her sickly state. "Victor Creed. You are _not_ throwin' me out the window!" she snapped.

Victor scowled back. "Well how else we gonna find out ya mutation frail?"

"I dunno." She shrugged back in reply. "But you are not throwin' me out of any window in this house!"

Silence fell on them again, only being broken by Layla's occasional cough.

"I feel sick again." She suddenly announced. Victor looked up at her from the bottom of her bed, somewhat amused by the statement.

"And what the fuck' ya want me ta do 'bout it Lay?"

Layla shrugged. "I'd like a cuddle." She pouted to herself.

Victor's eyebrow rose in questioning. "Yer kiddin' right?"

Layla visibly bristled at him. "No. I'm not actually." She bit back. "I'd actually really appreciate some actual, physical, attention for once Victor!"

The feral mutant at the end of her bed simply stared back at her blankly. Sighing, Layla slumped back against her pillows, toying with the one in her lap that she'd used to hit Victor with.

"Do I really look like the cuddling type ta you Layla?" he chuckled as he closed his eyes. It wasn't long before the tangy smell of salt flooded his nose. Opening his eyes again, he looked up at Layla, who had pressed her face into one of the pillows and was crying silently, her shoulders shaking with each small sob.

Victor huffed and finally moved from his seat at the end of the bed, moving closer to Layla as he tried to comfort her in his poor manner.

"C'mon Lay." He rasped, rubbing her shoulders as gently as he could.

"I just want a hug." She sobbed into her pillow. Victor ran his fingers through his mane of blonde hair as he strained to agree with her request.

"Ya know I don't do huggin', Layla." He only just managed to keep the growl out of his voice.

"Please Victor. _Please."_ She begged from her pillow. "Just this once. I'll never ask you again."

Victor sucked his teeth in aggravation before mouthing the word 'fuck' a few times. "Alright." He finally snapped, tugging on her night shirt.

The preteen sniffed as she turned back to Victor. She rubbed her eyes and tried to smile at his irate frown.

"Thank you." She purred, almost as sugary sweet as the strawberries she still loved to snack on.

"Whatev...!" He hadn't even finished when she flung herself at him, arms wide and welcoming as they snaked around his neck and pulled them together. Victor automatically tensed. That certainly wasn't his comfort zone, and the alien experience was a little shocking. Layla nuzzled into his neck, sighing contently as she relaxed. The rush of air over his bare neck sent a shiver down Creed's spine and his eyes shot over to the door, desperate for Burns to walk in and save him.

"You smell good." Layla smiled, pressing her face to the skin of his neck.

"I thought ya nose was blocked?" Victor replied as he began to pat her back awkwardly.

"That's not a real cuddle Victor."

"What aint?"

"Patting my back." she scowled up at him. After another angry hiss of breath, Victor wrapped his arms round her small torso. "Better?" He huffed.

Layla nodded and snuggled in closer, pressing her cheek to his stubbly jaw. They sat for a moment, Victor finally relaxing with the contact. His hand absently began to rub her sides and he grinned as she wiggled without breaking skin contact. But something began to ache in the side of Victor's jaw. He ignored it at first, thinking it was something to do with how hard Layla had her face pressed against his. The ache quickly became worse, and Victor groaned with it. Layla sighed happily in return, one of her hands uncoiling from round his neck and stroking the other side of his jaw, her fingers curling in the groomed mutton chops.

The ache turned into a burn and Victor began to feel like the skin was beginning to melt from his face. Layla seemed unaware of this, as she continued to run her hand over the skin of his chest. That's when the burning spread. From his jaw, down his neck, finally reaching the spot of skin on his chest where Layla's hand had settled.

With a yelp, from both pain, and realisation, Victor shoved her away, almost pushing her off the bed. He jumped back off the bed, cradling his jaw and chest.

"W-whoa? Victor?" the tears rose again as Layla stabilised herself on the bed and reached out for Victor, who back away instinctively.

"YER A GODDAMN LEECH!" he yelled. Layla cringed back. She didn't understand. Why was he yelling like that? And why was he calling her a leech?

"What?" she whimpered.

"You!" he snapped, his voice lowering a fraction. "Yer a fuckin' leech! That's ya mutation! Ya steal other people's powers and life forces!" He looked almost horrified by it.

Layla trembled, still not understanding, until she paused. She'd stopped sniffing and her head didn't feel heavy anymore. The cough and sore throat seemed to have gone too.

"OH MY GOD!" She squeaked. "Vic! I stole your healing factor!"

After that day, Victor had become worried. He worried Layla would end up like the X woman, Rogue, unable to touch or feel other people without draining them of everything they had. Luckily, that had been the only time Layla lost control of her powers. It turned out, although her mutation was as strong as rogue's, Layla was able to switch it on and off, allowing her to have the life she'd been used too.

After three years with the mutation, she'd changed significantly. With every small scrap and scuff, bump or bruise, Layla had stolen Victor's healing factor, leaving her body unmarked, but also changed from taking some of Victor's physical and sometimes, personal traits.

The most noticeable was her hair. Every time Layla had used Victor's healing factor, her hair had become lighter in colour. Going from a dark brown, which she'd had from a small child, to a muddy blonde at age fifteen. Her eye's had become a stronger blue too, making them more intense and piercing, compared to her pale blue gaze as a child. Needless to say, those things had made her a little more popular with the boys in the expensive neighbourhood, even if Victor usually chased them off.

Something that didn't appeal to her, or the guys in her neighbourhood, were the miniature claws that had taken the place of her nails on her finger and toes. There were nowhere near as sharp as Victor's but still gave a nasty scratch. Her canine teeth had mutated too, sharpening, like her nails, into tiny fangs that cut her tongue and lips at first and gave her a lisp. She'd soon got over it though.

Those traits tended to fade after a while, only to return when she used Victor's mutation to stop her PMS pains or cure a headache. She didn't mind them though. She actually like being a little more like Victor. And she was sure he didn't mind too much either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

1 AM. 2 AM. 3 AM. 3:30 AM. 4 AM.

By the time Victor managed to drag his ass off the sofa, it was 4:45 AM, and the first slivers of morning light were peeking through the window.

Hitting the main control switch in the main hall, the whole Creed household descended into darkness and Victor began to climb the stairs, his eyes still picking out every detail in the darkness as they would in the light.

He took his time walking to his room on the top floor, doing anything to avoid getting to the room, and to his bed. He'd sat up for a week straight, too intimidated by his own dreams to sleep. Layla had started insisting he sleep, and her whining was beginning to rub him up the wrong way.

Even at his slow, steady pace, Victor got to his room far too quickly for his liking. Thoughts about the dreams he'd have as soon as he let himself slip into sleep ate away at his mind, causing him to hesitate at the thick wooden room to his room. He sighed. The nightmares never let his sleep soundly as long as he killed people for money or his own sick pleasure.

Victor Creed would do anything for a decent nights sleep.

Closing the door silently behind him, he drifted to his bed and dropped himself onto the abused mattress, the springs giving a slight squeak as he did so. He'd have to get Burns to order a new one. Victor rolled onto his back, his hands gripping the covers, and let himself go.

_The blackness. The dark. It filled his mind, his sight, and his senses. He hoped this would be it. Victor sat alone in the dark, praying this was it. He sat hunched up, arms wrapped around his knees as he waited. He could feel them around him, waiting. Just waiting. He hadn't sat like this since...No. Victor refused to think of it. Not now. If he did. If he thought about it, the names, the pliers, the axe, He'd never make it through the night. But it was already too late. The memories forced him to drop his guard, and that's when they came for him. _

_A whimper, soft and pained pierced the darkness behind him. Victor didn't turn. He knew who was there. It was the same little boy that was always there, that always started his nightmares. The whimper from the little lad became stronger, turning into a groan, like a zombie, waiting for him to turn. _

"_Fuck off." Victor mumbled. All he wanted to do was dream peacefully. _

_The groan sounded again, being joined by a second. _

"_Fuck. Off." Victor growled louder than before. They were coming for him. _

_Hands began to pull at him. At his sweat pants and his hair, their nails biting into his skin. _

"_Please. Just fuck off!" he hissed through gritted teeth. "I had ta do it. It's my Job." More voices came from the darkness as more hands pulled at him. Victor began to lash out at the blooded, cut, gory faces and bodies that edged toward him, their dead eyes fixed on him and only him. _

"_FUCK OFF!" He yelled, springing to his feet and trying to charge his way through them. _

_Victor recognised every face. Their names had faded and become lost in time, but their faces remained. They were all victims. People he'd killed, whether it was for sport, or business. There were always new ones joining them too, as he continued with his work. And they were forever pulling at his mind while he dreamed. _

"_STOP!" He roared as bloody hands caught his ankles, stopping his escape. They came for him quickly then, pulling and forcing him under. Their dead, pale eyes focused on Victor, desperate to take him with them as they faded into his dreams. _

"_NO! STOP! GET THA FUCK OFF ME!" He roared as they drove him under. Somehow, he managed to surface again, gulping and sweating with his struggling. _

"_Stop yer strugglin' boy!" yelled a voice from the darkness as Victor was suddenly pulled from the sea of grasping hands, only to be slammed back onto a cold stone floor, his hands and feet bound. _

"_I'll fix you." Hissed the voice again, coming from a shadowy figure as it approached him. Victor eyes widened with terror and he began to pull at the restraints. _

"_No. No! Please pa, __**PLEASE!**__" _

"_Ya got the devil in you boy. I'm gonna fix that though. Fix you once and fer all!" _

_Victor was yelling for help by then, screaming at the black outline of his mother in the door way to stop the man that had spent so many years subjecting him to horrible punishment Victor had done nothing to receive. _

"_Please Pa! No, I'm beggin' ya! Please don't!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs as his father learned over him, pliers in hand. Victor's mother turned her back on her son, yet again. _

Victor yelped, eyes popping open in shock and fright. He quickly sat himself upright, still panting from the nightmare when a single shiver ran down his spine as phantom pains made his claws and teeth ache as if they had been pulled free from his person.

Holding his head in his hands, Victor whimpered quietly to himself, one eye looking through the crack between his fingers at the clock on his bedside table. 5:37 AM. _Shit...  
_He'd only been in bed just less than an hour.

With a yawn, He ran his fingers through his sweat soaked hair before looking at the clock again. It was too early to wake Layla, or was it? No, it wasn't fair on her, waking her up every time he had a nightmare. He scoffed at that thought. Sabretooth. The biggest and meanest merc out there, running to a little girl for comfort every time he had a nightmare.  
_Jesus, my rep would go down tha shitter if anyone ever found out._ Victor thought with a shake of his head. But, despite his doubts, Victor got out of bed and left his room, plodding, barefoot, down the hall to Layla's room.

Her once bland door had been decorated over the years. The decoration reflecting her change in tastes. At that point in time, her door was covered in band posters. Pictures of men in eyeliner or full face make up, pulling, what they must have thought were threatening, faces. Clad in leather and spikes, with curious names like 'Cannibal Corpse' and 'Napalm death'. Victor snored in amusement. They actually sounded pretty interesting.

He didn't bother knocking. He never did. She'd learned to live with it, even if it meant him walking in on her in an 'awkward' moment. In Victor's opinion, they were the best times to walk in on someone. Opening the door, he entered quietly. Her once light violet walls had long since been changed; with every surface now covered in more posters of random things she seemed to take interest in.

His gaze fell to the ball shaped creature, curled up in middle of the queen sized bed, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched her wiggle further under the covers as a cool breeze from her open door ran over her.

The door was shut soundly, and Victor finally stalked over to Layla as she slept, crawling onto the end of her bed and leaning over her sleeping form.

"Layla." He purred to the tuft of blond hair poking out from under the covers. When she didn't stir, he rasped her name a little louder, relishing her little shiver. But the game soon became old, and Victor impatiently stabbed at the covers with his finger. "Layla, Wake up!" he growled.

A small hand came from under the covers suddenly, sleepily trying to swat his hand away with a little grumble of annoyance.

"Frail, wake tha fuck up already!" He finally snapped, shaking her roughly by the shoulder.

Layla groaned and rolled onto her back, rubbing her face with her hand. "What do you want from me?" she whined. Eventually, she opened one lazy eye and spotted Creed's scowling expression.

"Oh Vic. It's you." She yawned.

"Yea its me." He grunted.

Layla just about managed to push herself up onto her elbow to look at him properly. Victor looked away gravely. He looked desperate for a decent nights sleep and smelled like sweat. Layla pushed her hair out of her eyes and shuffled up closer to him, gently resting her head on his shoulder.

"Did you have another nightmare?" she asked, another yawn following soon after.

Victor shrugged and grunted in response. He'd never been one for sappy moments where he'd go into detail about it and maybe have a little cry. But Victor was confident that Layla understood. They were that close at least. The teen girl gave a tired smile and brushed her lips over the skin of his shoulder.

"Ok." She yawned once more. "but when Burns comes to get me up in the mornin', you can explain why your asleep in my bed with me like some giant, feral teddy bear."

The larger mans smirk went unnoticed by her and she wiggled back under the covers on one side of her bed, throwing the covers back for him to join her. Happily, Victor obliged, crawling into the space next to her and wrapping an arm protectively around her waist.

"Was it bad?" Layla finally asked, barely feeling the pull of sleep anymore. Victor grunted in response and nuzzled closer to her, sucking in a deep breath as he smelt her hair.

"I'm sorry Vic." Layla cooed to him, stroking the arm around her waist.

"You aint done nothin' wrong girl." He mumbled back.

"I know." Layla sighed. "But I really hate seeing you so distressed about shit like this." She continued, still caressing the skin of his arm.

"What yer mean Lay?" Victor frowned. His skin began to prickle with excitement at her touch. Being fifteen, Layla's body was going through the normal puberty changes. Her hormones tended to exaggerate any mood she may have been in; this included the recent scents of arousal she'd began to give off. These hormones played havoc with Victor's nose and senses and had become increasingly harder to control himself at moments like that.

Layla turned in his grip, coming face to face with a beast many prayed never to, but Layla wasn't many, and everything about Victor was amazing to her young mind.

"I wish you didn't have these nightmares. I just want you to be able to chill and sleep without getting so tense." She pouted.

Victor gave a snort and stared back at her with curious amusement at her behaviour.

"Yer and strange girl Layla." Her purred, pulling her closer and tucking her head under his chin.

"Yea. But that's the reason you love me." She purred back. Victor really couldn't hold back the laughter at the statement. Love her? Victor shook his head.

"Go to sleep Lay."

* * *

**I just wanna say sorry about this chapter peeps. It does suck and I'm nowhere near happy with it. but I was falling asleep trying to write it. maybe I should sleep a little before writing in future. yes? lol**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Victor groaned in his sleep. He'd managed to drop off not long after joining Layla in bed and, as usual, the nightmares hadn't followed him to her room.

His was, at that moment, in that surreal type of sleep that seemed to blend both the conscious and subconscious mind. He was faintly aware of a weight, nothing serious, but a certain amount of weight that seemed to press against his hips as it seemed to straddle him. It was warm and familiar and smelled amazing. But in his dream like mind, Creed's familiarities with the action made his blood begin to boil and rush to his groin. The heat on his hips seemed to spread a little, moving over his bare abs and chest, pulling slightly at the golden hair. The sting made him groan unconsciously again, his hips bucking to press further against the warmth. The heat intensified with the movement and pushed back against his growing arousal.

It had been a long time since he'd had a dream like this one, and he was beginning to like it.

The weight wiggled on his hips, making Victor grin sleepily. He instinctively bucked again, pressing harder against the heat, growling with the sensation that radiated from whatever was on top of him. The scent of arousal thickened the air in Victor's dream and he breathed it in deep.

God, how long had it been since he got laid last, seen how he was beginning to get wet dreams?

The weight let out a gasp and rolled back against him, spurring him on unconsciously. His hands blindly reached out, gripping what felt like hips and Victor snarled as they rocked over his erection. Jesus, how he hoped not to wake up anytime soon.

The heat of a pair of hands was back on his torso, tracing the outlines of his muscles and teasing his skin. Whoever he was dreaming up knew what they were doing. Or so he thought.

He began to pant as the hands were followed by a tongue, that moved swiftly over his abs and over his chest, hesitating a moment over his nipple before flicking it lightly. The feather like touch was just enough to make Victor gasp in his sleep, the temperature in the room sky rocketing and the grip on the mystery person's hips tightening.

"Victor..." a soft voice murmured in his incoherent mind sending shocks through his groin and legs. He grunted in response, throwing his head back in need. Lips touched his heaving chest once again before pulling away and moving up to his throat.

Normally, Victor would have automatically become defensive, like any animal, protecting his throat from attack, but asleep, and under the influence of heavy arousal, he openly offered it to the hungry mouth. And hungry it was. It traced up over his throat, tasting the skin all the way to his jaw. After a tentative lick or two, the tongue followed his jaw line, before flicking over Victor's bottom lip playfully.

Sabretooth willingly opened his mouth, allowing the tongue to enter and start a deep kiss as their mouths met.

His partner groaned, Victor's mouth catching the sound and swallowing it. His hands strayed from the hips, running upward, over a cloth covered stomach and sides, the material riding up with the movement.

This dream was defiantly becoming his favourite, only being topped by dreams of murder and bloodshed. That was until a straying hand of his dream partner began to push at the fabric of his sweats, and like most great dreams, the action caused Victor to start awake, only to find himself in a more than awkward situation.

It took a moment or too to become fully awake, but once he was, he soon realised, with horror, that his dream wasn't a dream at all.

Every muscle tensed at the realisation that his lips were locked with Layla's. The sudden lack of interest in kissing caught the girl's attention, and she pulled back a little to look at Victor.

"Good morning." She cooed as she gently stroked his jaw, seemingly undeterred by the look of utter horror in his eyes. She looked flustered, her cheeks a bright pink and her ever breath laboured.

"What the Fu-..." He snarled and bolted upright, almost throwing Layla from the bed in the process. She bounced off the covers but managed to steady herself.

"Burns told me to come and wake you." She murmured, sudden fear curdling her stomach as she gazed upon his thunderous expression.

"Well ya fuckin' did that alright!" he bellowed, jumping from the bed as fast as possible. The tenting in his sweatpants catching her eye as he moved to the door and quickly left.

Tears began to sting her eyes, but the memory of his sweatpants bulging as he left replayed in her mind and the need to cry faded, being replaced by a feeling of triumph and arousal. Laughter suddenly tore free from her chest and Layla collapsed back on her bed in fits of giggles as her mind mulled over her discovery. The discovery of the power she held over Victor Creed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Burns hung Mr Creed's Armani suit up in his dressing room. It had taken a full week to clean properly. Blood was an incredibly tough stain to remove. It always baffled him why anyone would want to stain, and sometimes even ruin almost $600 worth of clothing in one go. Then again, Sabretooth wasn't lacking in cash and he liked to burn it. In recent years however, most of the cash had gone on Layla, whether she appreciated it or not. Burns wasn't afraid to admit it. Layla was spoiled.

Layla had grown, not just in the normal ways, but mentally, she was familiar with things kids of her age weren't, or weren't meant to be. The idea of Creed killing potential boyfriends may have angered her, but she wasn't horrified or repulsed by it. It was the norm in her world by then. Victor destroyed or killed whoever or whatever he didn't like, and Layla dealt with it, usually just shrugging it off. She was a lot more adult in her thoughts than most. And that worried Burns.

Creed had taken to sleeping in Layla's bed at late. It was none of Burns' business really and Victor maintained that it was just because he couldn't sleep alone. It used to be Birdy who not only maintained his mental state, but if the glow didn't knock him out; she usually ended up sleeping in his bed. As Burns understood, it wasn't _always_ sexual, but Creed was a restless sleeper at the best of times and sex managed to keep his mind off things. He wondered whether Creed was trying to push that responsibility onto Layla.

Closing the wardrobe doors, Burns head out of the room and out onto the main landing, his mind still wondering as he went. When he'd gone to wake Layla that morning, once again, he found Creed curled up in her bed, his thick arms coiled round her in a protective loop. As much as Layla enjoyed that kind of contact with sabretooth, it made Burns' skin crawl. Having not raised, or even been round many children before Layla, Victor had treated her as an adult. He didn't watch his language around her like many parents do. He didn't bother to try and shield her from things she was too young to see. He treated her like an adult, something she simply was not yet.

Maybe, years from then, if Burns saw Creed and Layla in the same position, sleeping next to each other, curled up close, like lovers, maybe he wouldn't have been so appalled. But Layla was fifteen, and Burns _was _appalled.

He continued his musings and everyday activities, totally unaware of what had occurred in Layla's room, which was until Creed stormed down the hall towards him.

"Mr Creed?" Burns shifted the bundle of washing for one arm to the other nervously. Victor's eyes burned with anger, fading from their normal sky blue, to a hellish orange.

"Did you tell Layla ta wake me up?" he snarled, bearing down on Burns. The smaller man backed up in shock and confusion. He wasn't usually one to be intimidated by Victor, but there were times he rather have avoided him than deal with his moods. This was one of those moments, but he couldn't avoid it. Obviously something had gone horribly wrong.

"Yes." He only just managed to breathe out.

"Why? WHY DIDN'T YOU WAKE ME?" Victor barked, leaning further into his face.

"L-Layla wanted to wake you. You've never minded before?" Burns voice sounded unusually desperate.

Victor snorted and reeled back, his glare finally averting to the stairs, but the scowl still every much directed towards Burns.

"What's happened?" Burns asked quietly as he regained his calm tone of voice.

"Ya don't wanna know." The larger feral growled, turning on his heel and stalking off. Burns watch after him, still dazed and confused.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

An unnerving quiet had settled over the Creed home since the disturbing turn of events earlier that morning. Creed had shut himself away in his study, while Layla had returned to her room doing whatever she pleased.

In truth her mind hadn't left that morning. It had changed her mind on certain things, or at least made up her mind for her. Layla loved Vic. She hadn't at first, but that was years ago. Now she genuinely loved him. She'd willingly over look anything he said or did, excepting it as part of Victor.

She blushed again as her mind when over that morning again. He must have known it was her surely? And yet he still acted that way?

She absently twirled a lock of hair between her fingers as she lay flat on her back on her bed. She could still faintly smell Victor on the sheets. She loved the scent he left around and on her, it made her feel owned and that was what every girl wanted, wasn't it?"

But something troubled her. As much as she'd enjoyed the contact with Victor, he hadn't seemed to have felt the same way. The lazy smile that had been present throughout the day, dropped suddenly with a thought. Maybe after what had happened that morning, Victor wouldn't want to stay in her bed again. Layla scowled and sat up. She didn't want that. Although she was aware of what had happened was borderline illegal, she wasn't planning on it never happening again. Not when Victor Creed didn't stick to any other law out there.

The feral personality traits she'd taken from him enhanced her sense of possessiveness and the need to keep Victor close drove into action.

She pushed herself off her bed and crossed the room, opening the door a fraction to peep out. From downstairs, she could hear the tumble drier whirring as Burns continued with the laundry. She could see Victor's bedroom door ajar, and after creeping down the hall and peering in, she found it empty. The scowl deepened into a frown as she wondered where he could have gone. She hoped he hadn't left and gone into the woods behind the property. She'd never find him if he had.

Layla turned and headed back down the hallway, her bare feet making a soft padding sound as they hit the wooden flooring. She was still wearing her pyjamas, seen how it was Sunday, the day she nearly always spent in bed. The long black, sleeveless top hung loosely over her torso, covering her toned young form from everyone's eyes, including Creeds. Well at least he couldn't say she was leading him on by wearing anything sexy to bed. The shorts, however, were a different matter. Creed tended to keep the house warm, not for himself, more for Layla. It sometimes made sleeping at night too hot and sweaty for normal pyjamas, so the little leopard print shorts helped stay cool. Although they didn't help her and Creed's situation much.

Layla was aware of what Burns thought. Not because she'd heard it straight from his mouth, but because Victor tended to discus it and other things, with her in his more talkative moods. Layla loved Burns. He'd been the nicest too her when she'd first arrived, but something's, she thought, he simply didn't understand. Victor's nightmares were one of them. She didn't understand them fully, but she was willing to understand more than Burns, hence why she didn't object to having the feral crawl into bed next her at night. From what she understood, it was the reason Birdy slept with him too.

Wondering down the stairs, she turned left and headed towards the study. She gave a smile as she thought of how badly that room used to scare her. Or more, what was in that room that scared her. The door was closed. Obviously Victor was still sulking.

Once at the door, she looked round again for Burns. If he found her trying to speak to Victor while he was in such a mood, he would have no doubt shuffled her off and ushered her into her room again until dinner. It appeared that he was still in the laundry room, so, with a little more confidence, she knocked on the door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The soft rapping at the door didn't even stir Victor's senses. His mind swirled with all the things he did and didn't want to do.

He'd known for a long time that Layla was what he wanted and he would gladly give her anything, but what she really wanted, she was far too young for him to really give her. He didn't know why it bothered him like it did, he'd raped woman only a little older than Layla before. Maybe it was because she was so willing?

Victor sighed and sat back in his armchair facing the roaring fire. He knew Layla was doting. She'd been like it for sometime, with the way she'd wait by the door when she knew he was coming home from and job and followed him round, practically stuck to his leg. He'd learned not to mind that so much. The way she looked at him too, starry eyed . As she'd grown she'd expressed more than once, her want to join him in his profession. To kill as he did, and her enthusiasm had impressed him.

He growled unconsciously as he wondered what had happened to the impressionable little girl he'd spent years trying to get to genuinely like him.

He chuckled as the thought struck him.

That little girl _had_ grown to like him, just in a way she wasn't meant to yet.

There was another knock at the door, this time, harder and with a little more inpatient force.

Victor inhaled deep, pulling in the scent of the person from under the door. Layla's strawberry scent hit his nostrils and he groaned. He was sure their meeting wasn't going to go down well.

"What ya want, Lay?" He called to the closed door.

The door slowly swung open and Layla stood, sheepishly, in her pyjamas smiling at him. She looked a little cold, but it didn't seem to bother her too much. Layla slipped into the room, closing the door behind her, and wondered over to his chair, keeling down next to his legs and resting her head on his thigh. It was normal behaviour for Layla, but after earlier, it made Victor uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry Vic." She said in her sugar sweet voice. The same voice she used when she wanted something. And to Victor's utter loathing, it worked too. He only hoped she wasn't going to try and use it for other things.

Her fingers found their way to the stitching of his jean leg and began gently tracing the lining. The touch caused Victor to flinch back, moving his leg out of her reach by crossing it over the other. He heard her chuckled and she continued, undeterred, by running her fingers across his other bare ankle.

"Layla." He growled. The words to tell her off were there, on the tip of his tongue, but he simply couldn't use them. "Yer irritatin' me." Was all he managed to get out.

Layla shrugged and shuffled round on her knees to face him, resting her crossed arms on his lap, with her chin balancing on her folded arms. Layla smiled up at Victor, and Victor glared back.

"What are ya doin' Layla?" he asked in a low growl.

Layla tilted her head slightly, like a curious kitten. Her smile never faltering.

"I'm spending time with you." She purred up at him. Victor scowled. She was up to something and he couldn't smell what it was. Or maybe to could. Layla's hormones flared again and a hint of arousal entered her scent. It was practically impossible to cringe any further back in his seat, but Victor tried none the less.

The warm palm of Layla's hand began move up his thigh, squeezing slightly as she went. Victor bit down on a groan as she gently moved upward, his attention being caught by the sudden and somewhat painful tightening in his crotch of his jeans.

"Layla...Stop." he panted as his restraint began to slip. Her tiny hands moved upward, ignoring the plea to stop. Victor fidgeted in his seat, desperate to stop the inevitable.

"Layla, Stop!" he managed to snarl as he grabbed her hands. He leaned forward, snarling in her now scowling face. "I told ya ta stop and I meant it!"

"I dunno why?" she snapped back, pressing her forehead against his.

"'Cos it's wrong, that's why!"

"How is it?" Layla spat through gritted teeth. "What do you care if it's wrong anyways, everything you do is wrong!"

"Yea, but that's 'cos I choose it ta be wrong. I like it that way Layla!" he growled back. He could see the fire burning behind her eyes, Oh, and what magnificent fire it was.

"Well I choose to be wrong too!" she growled, managing to wiggle her hands out of his grasp and grab big hand full's of his hair and pulling his face closer to hers. Victor's response, as delayed as it was, was to grab at Layla's neck.

"Let go of my hair girlie, _or so God help me_, I'll beat ya stupid!" Creed snarled, his grip on her throat tightening. Layla's hands twisted further into his hair, pulling slightly at the scalp to aggravate him even more.

"You let go!" she rasped back.

"Yer in no position ta be trying ta take over here frail. . OF. MY. HAIR."

"No!" Layla wheezed. "You wouldn't. I know you wouldn't Victor! Not after all these years, so let me go!"

"Ya really think I wouldn't?" he chuckled cruelly. "I fuckin' would darlin! But if it's any consolation, I'd feel bad fer all of about ten minutes!"

Layla wheezed again, her grip on his hair lessening as she struggled to breathe. "Please Vic. Let me ...go"

Victor continued to glare at her in silence as she struggled for air. His blood was raging through his veins with both anger and arousal. If he let her go, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if she tried anything again. But if he didn't, well, he'd be in the shit with Burns for killing the girl. It would probably piss him off too.

"Fine." He snorted. "On tha count of three, ya let go of my hair, and I'll let go of ya throat. Ya hear?" Layla gave a weak nod.

"Ok. Good. Ready?" he panted. She nodded again and Victor began to count. "One. Two. Three!"

His grip of her neck dropped and Layla untangled her finger from his hair. Victor moved back, trying to settle himself back in his chair, but was halted when Layla's arms were thrown round his neck and she heaved herself onto his lap, her body pressing tight against his.

"Layla!" He barked. Every attempt he made to push her away, she clamped on tighter, her warmth pressing harder against the aching bulge in his jeans.

Hissing in defeat, Victor slammed his fist against the aim of his seat, the other hand resting, absent-mindedly, on Layla's hip.

"Ya really trying ta test me aint ya girlie?" the feral mutant growled.

"Well your not testing yourself, now are you Victor? So someone has to!" she retorted, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"And what's that meant ta mean?" His growl vibrated through both their bodies and made Layla shudder, her arousal returning.

"It means your being a dick and not giving in to your instincts! Something you've always told me to do, no matter what."

Snatching at her hair and pulling her to look at him, Victor stared at her straight in the eye. She wasn't a mind reader, but after all the times he'd let her take his healing factor, she had a better insight into his mind that most others. Hell! The more she used his healing factor, the more his became like him. She even had some of his memories and moments where his thoughts took over in her tiny brain and she'd take on his rages.

His glare lessened as he thought. The girl was family. Wasn't sure what family yet, but family none the less. Her mind could comprehend things other her age couldn't, which included his life.

Victor sighed and allowed his fingers to uncurl in her hair, but remain in place supporting her head. It would happen eventually. He'd planned it that way, and if she was feeling it this early, why try and put out the fire?

"So..." he purred, leaning in to her, their noses touching. "What do ya think I should do 'bout it Lay?"

The young girl smiled and leaned into him and without another word shared between the two, she pressed her lips to his, in a gentle, if not amateur , kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 **

Victor relaxed back into the seat, allowing Layla to pepper him with childish kisses to his lips and jaw line. It was almost painfully clear that this was her first time trying to be intimate in anyway other than a hug.

Her hands moved of their own accord, tracing the outlines of his abs. Victor found himself grinning. Her inexperience was refreshing after so many years screwing whores, or anyone that took his fancy for that matter. He couldn't remember the last time a woman had taken the time to touch him. To feel him. Hell, he had to think hard to remember a time when a woman was willing! He frowned when he thought of that particular memory. The last willing woman had been Leni. Or rather, it had been Mystique disguised as operative Leni Zauber.

That train of thought was beginning to make his claws itch and would possibly spoil the moment if he didn't push it away fast. That was the one thing Creed thanked the X men, or more directly, the runt for. Since the claw to the brain, he'd been able to control his thoughts and anger better than any other time in his life.  
And with that, the thoughts of Mystique, Leni, his 'darlin' baby boy', and the runt were gone, leaving only the present and more importantly, Layla.

The girl's lust was starting to tickle his nose, but her technique was getting him nowhere. Finally deciding it was his time to take control, he grasped Layla's hips, the action and the prick of his claws causing the young girl to jump in surprise.

"Goddamnit girl. Yer doin' this all wrong!" He muttered, before bucking her from his lap and tossing her onto the sofa next to his armchair, before pouncing after her and pinning her to his cushions of the sofa.

Fear began to creep into her scent, threatening to bring her back to reality and out of his grasp. Layla began to wiggle against his grip, slightly beginning to regret her actions. Maybe owning such an untamable animal wasn't really the best idea.

"Be still…" Victor's voice rasped against her ear, stopping all movement. She'd lived with him long enough to know when she was in a dangerous position, but laying under the monster of a man after spending half an hour trying to get his attention, which she now had, was probably the scariest position she'd ever been in.

"Victor…I...Please…" her voice trembled as she tried to reverse what she'd started.

"I said be still girlie. That means be silent too…" Sabretooth growled, his hand snaking around her neck, the grip not strong enough to kill her, but strong enough to keep her from moving again.

Giving in on instinct, Victor leaned in, tracing her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. He could feel her young flesh quiver with what smelt like fear, but she'd pushed him way too far to care about it anymore. He'd have her whether she liked it or not.

"Ya shouldn't play with animals twice tha size of yerself pretty kitty." He purred against her skin and relishing the shudder she gave.

"I was never one to play it safe Vic…you of all people should know that…" Layla whispered in reply. Her eyes were closed. Not tightly, as if waiting for his attack, but gracefully, as if waiting for a lover's tender kiss. Sadly for her, that was the last thing Victor would give her.

Victor's demonic eyes shone down on the girl as he gazed upon her face closer than ever before. She'd grown up well and at fifteen, the adult beauty she would grow into was beginning to peak through her fading child-like futures. His lip curled back in anger as he continued his examination of her. What he was about the do was going to destroy the last few traces of her childhood, and being her swiftly and somewhat abruptly into adulthood.

What he was about to do to Layla was almost the same thing his father had done to him. He was going to take her childhood.

"Victor?"

"This is gonna hurt Lay." He snapped in order to silence her worrying tone. She gasped as he pulled her face to his and kissed her deeply. He felt her begin to panic, not sure how to react to such adult intimacy. It was tempting to just be rough and watch in amusement as she tried to cope. But the prospect of their coupling becoming rape seemed a little more likely then. If this was going to be the first and only time Victor Creed took it easy, so be it. If only so he could keep the one thing he didn't want to lose.

The kiss softened, allowing Layla the chance to adjust. She managed to adapt quickly and even managed to slip her tongue into Victor's mouth, surprising him. It explored and caressed his mouth, causing him to grin against her lips as she even dared to gingerly prod at his razor edged canines. It wasn't long before the tang of blood was tasted in both their mouths, causing Victor to pull back with both curiosity and dread.

Red tainted saliva strung out between their parting lips as he moved away before breaking and falling onto Layla's chin, next to the thin line of blood that trailed from her lips. As if worried by Victor's expression, Layla's tongue darted out, clearing the blood and saliva from her mouth and Chin.

"I made ya bleed…" When Victor spoke, it was scary and distant. His eyes never left the spot on her lip where the blood welled up from. Layla swallowed back the nervousness that began to boil in the pit of her stomach. The look in his eyes was just how she imagined him to look as he killed or was about to kill someone.

"No…No, Victor. It's ok. It's fine." She cooed to him, cupping his jaw and trying hard to keep the shake from her voice. This wasn't the kind of position any woman wanted to be in with a psychotic feral mutant with a passion for blood.

Her arms gave way as he lunged forward and attacked her bottom lip, sucking hard on it to milk it of her blood. Layla moaned at the sensation, her body arching upward and pressing against his bulk.

Her reaction spurred Victor on and he continued to nip and suck at her lip as it bled. She tasted better than he'd imagined, and oh, how he'd imagined!

"Better than any fuckin' vampire movie huh, Lay?" he growled playfully with her lip between his teeth.

Layla laughed outright, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. Letting go of her lip, Victor pulled back to look down on her once more. The scent of her lust was gaining strength again and her hands began to stray as they caressed the back of his neck and combed through his hair.

Layla continued to giggle as she gazed back at him. Maybe it wasn't going to be half as bad as she'd panicked about not long ago. As monstrous as creed could be, he was her monster and now it was going to become official.

A ravenous feeling flooded her as he began to nip at the skin just below her ear, slowly moving down to her neck and throat. "I'd take you over Dracula any night Vic." She groaned as he lapped at the tiny wounds he inflicted with his fangs.

Fisting his hands in her night shirt, Victor pulled it up over her head, meeting no resistance as he did so. Years of 'borrowing' his mutation had not only bleached her hair, but left her with a flawless light tan, much like his own. Screwing Layla would be the next best thing to screwing himself, he thought with a vain smirk against her skin. His mouth made its way down her neck and over her collar bone, his teeth coming down hard on it, causing Layla to wince.

"Fuck! Your not gonna bite are you?" she muttered through another wince as sharp canine teeth scrapped against the bone.

"Course I am." He grunted. "Sex with me just aint sex if I aint bit ya!"

Layla pouted and rolled her eyes in irritation. "Does that mean ya gonna claw me too? 'Cos if you are, can you please not claw me where people will see… or on my legs for that matter. I actually enjoy wearing shorts in the summer Victor."

Victor's chuckle filled the room, slighting relieving the sexual tension.

"That so?" he chuckled, propping himself up on one elbow over her, his eyebrow quirked in amusement.

"Sure…Like you've never noticed…" she muttered back as her arms moved to cover her bra, one hand toying with the strap.

"Yea, well. Ya know what?" He purred in her ear as he leaned down again. His hand swatted her arms away from her chest, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. "I 'ave noticed actually." He grinned before running his tongue around the shell of her ear. Without even looking, he could sense her deep blush, purely from the heat radiating off her skin. A free hand managed to reach between them and repositioned Layla's right leg to hook itself around his waist.

There was groan from both as Victor pressed their bodies against one another.

"This is, hands down, the most dangerous thing I have _ever_ done." Layla panted as Victor's mouth worked as the skin of her midsection and his free hand reached up to claw her bra. She yelped as the material from torn from her body, exposing her to him.

"Oh yer gonna be doin far more dangerous stuff with me yet, frail." Creed grinned. His eyes roamed the newly exposed flesh hungrily before daring to taste. Layla's back arched as his lips grasped the nipple, grinding it between his teeth and roughly tugging at it.

Miniature claws bit into Victor's shoulders as Layla struggled with the mixed sensations of pain and pleasure as her body was manipulated for the first time. She began to wonder, in her feverish mindset, whether this was how it was meant to be. Was it normal to feel so pleased with her own pain? Maybe she was spending too much time with Mr. Creed…

Suddenly, her world seemed to whirl and she gasped as she was pulled, quite roughly, onto the floor before Sabretooth prowled over her. Long stands of his blonde hair fell over his shoulders and around his face giving him the fierce lion look without the need for the thick ruff of fur he normally wore on the ridiculous all-in-one body suit.

She'd once told him it looked ridiculous…needless to say it had earned her a slap. As many things as she may have been immune to by living with him, a slap wasn't one of them.

"So now what…" she breathed, feeling more than a little vulnerable under his glare.

Without a word, Creed caught her mouth with his own. Now wasn't the best time to give Layla a sex Ed lesson. Although he was sure he could give her a pretty good practical lesson.

His clawed fingers streaked down her torso, leaving angry red welts in their wake. He had no doubt she'd use him to heal them later. The talons caught the material of the waist band of her shorts and began to tug.

The shorts began to slip over her hips and sudden fear flooded Layla's scent. Her hand instantly made a move to stop the removal, clutching at Victor's wrist in desperation. Breaking the kiss, Victor smirked at her, not really reassuring her with the sight of his pointy fangs.

"Relax frail. Ya aint got nothin' I aint seen before…'cept of course if ya got a Johnson down there, in which case, that wont bother me too much either…"

Layla's paled; wide eyed expression of shock amused him greatly, causing a low chuckle to rumble from his chest.

"Oh fuck off Layla." He laughed, slapping her hand away. "How tha bloody hell do ya expect me ta get it in there if yer wear these fuckin' things?" he asked, flicking the waist band of her shorts to get his meaning across.

When she continued to stare back with a mixed expression of shock and slight embarrassment, Victor rolled his eyes and huffed out an aggravated breath. "fine." He grunted. Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to the skin between her collar bones. "I swear I aint gonna hurt ya Lay. Just taken 'em off…Hell, I wont even look if ya don't want me ta."

Layla turned her face away in embarrassment as she began to wiggle out of her shorts of her own accord. She could feel her face burning, much like the rest of her body. Thankfully, Victor was looking across the room, although it wasn't the kind of privacy she'd have liked.

The material finally slipped from her body and she shuddered at the realization that she was left in nothing but her panties. She'd never felt so anxious in all her young life and thoughts of possible things that Victor could say when he saw her ran riot through her mind. He'd never hidden the fact that he's slept, or rather, raped, more woman that he cared to remember. He'd seen hundreds of different women's bodies, all shapes, sizes and colors, but Layla was painfully aware her wasn't yet a woman and the thought of Victor laughing, or even snickering, at the slightest imperfection made her want to cry. Victor could be very cruel like that…

"Can I look now, or do ya want me ta carry on with my eyes closed?" he huffed sarcastically, his eyes still glaring at the bookcase across the room.

Layla coughed weakly, trying to hide the returning quiver in her voice. "You wouldn't even if I asked you to, so you may as well carry on…"

"True" He chuckled. The pads of his fingers were suddenly felt by Layla, as he skated his hand across the cotton of her underwear.

"But, ya see Lay…" He rasped, nipping at her bottom lip. The same lip Layla was biting on to hold back the scream as he continued to toy with her waist band. "…I don't really need ta see ya, ta be able to know what ya look like."

The tears began to build and burn in her eyes as his hand explored her lower body. She couldn't remember ever feeling so humiliated, and Victor's occasional chuckled only aided in making her feel incompetent.

"Ok then." Victor suddenly declared, somewhat cheerfully. "My turn!" he grinned down at her and began to fiddle with the button and zipper on his jeans.

"What? NO!" Layla cried, starting her struggle again. Her mind was too muddled to really understand what she wanted and she desperately wanted more time to think.

"Fer fucks sake Layla!" sabretooth snarled as he slammed her down by the shoulders, stopping all her struggles. "What now?"

"I…I need to think about this Vic…I…"

"You what?" he growled down into her face. "Yer really pissin' me off now frail! Ya spent all morning tryin' ta push me ta this point, and now I'm here, ya wanna think 'bout ya goddamn options?"

Layla remained quiet, unsure whether answering would get her hurt or not. He was right of course. She had made it her mission to drive him wild since the incident that morning. She was beginning to really regret not thinking it through before acting out.

"Now…" Victor started again, his breathing ragged as he tried to control himself. "I'm not makin' promises, but I'll _try_ not ta hurt ya too badly if we get ta the good stuff. But it will hurt no matter what I do. Just warnin' ya now." Layla sniffed pitifully under him. "It's ya first time darlin. It's gonna hurt." He managed to finish in a calm manner. But her indecisiveness was really yankin' his chain something fierce.

It took a moment or two of silent between the two, before Layla finally nodded. "Ok. But…but promise you'll try not to claw me."

Victor sighed. "I swear on my fuckin' healin' factor givin' up the ghost and me dyin', that I'll try my fuckin' best not ta claw ya…too badly anyways."

The girl under him shuddered, but nodded again before gripping his shoulders, and looking anywhere but him as he torn at the jeans and freed himself from confines of the denim.

He felt her stiffen as his erection pressed against her thigh. "Sorry 'bout this babe." He grunted as he reached between them and split her underwear, the material tangling on his claws as he ripped it away, leaving no barrier between their bodies.

There was no protest as he continued, positioning himself firmly between her legs and directly at her entrance.

"This is it sweetness." He warned. "Ya might wanna brace yaself…" he'd not even finished as the sting of his hair being pulled by the roots made him wince. Layla's hands had knotted themselves in him hair as she readied herself for penetration.

"Jesus Layla! It aint gonna hurt that much. Loosen up on tha grip huh?"

"Sorry…" she whimpered as she untangled her fingers from his hair and instead opted to almost strangle him.

"Will you count down please?" she asked from under him, her head resting against him neck as he propped himself over her.

"From ten?" he smirked.

"Not funny Vic. No, just from three." She mumbled. He grunted in agreement.

He'd waited along time for that moment. The moment she'd finally be his, and he was dead set on letting her have her own way, even if it killed him to allow so.

"Three…" the moment he spoke, she tensed, causing him to pause.

"Ya know, it don't hurt nowhere near that much if ya don't fuckin' tense up Lay…" Victor growled in aggravation.

"I'm sorry." She whimpered again. "I just keep thinking about how much it's gonna hurt…"

Victor's extremely short fuse was finally reaching its end and he was only a thought away from full blown raping the girl…  
Sucking in a deep breath between gritted teeth, he stalled himself long enough to try and distract Layla. With hunger, he kissed her again and allowed one hand to stray down her body, intent on settling her one way, or another.

"Relax." He growled against her lips as his hand moved down to the junction between her legs.

"Your claws!" she gulped, feeling skilled fingers begin to massage untouched flesh.

"I been doin' this fer years Layla. I think I know how ta do it without cuttin' ya by now."

His kiss swallowed her first strong moan, swiftly followed by many others. Her body ached and twisted as Creed stroked and pawed her into a feverish mess. He brought her to the edge, manipulating her until her body burned and the ache between her legs became too much to bear.

Her body's reactions made Victor's chest swell with pride. It really was true, she really did want him. His mind began to swirl at the prospect of everything he'd planned coming true. She was his, and it was time to finalize it all.

Layla groaned and whimpered as his fingers left her and she tried in vein to buck against his retreating hand.

"I got something far better fer ya now Layla…" he purred as he entered her roughly.

The sudden intrusion shocked Layla out of her lust stricken state and she drew back, inhaling deeply as she filled her lungs to scream. However, she only managed a squeak, as Victor's hand clamped shut over her mouth and he began to hush her. Tears began to blur her vision as she felt the sticky sensation of what could only be blood, drip from between her legs.

Victor hushed her best he could, but needless to say, he wasn't the sensitive type. He mentally kicked himself for not holding back a little more than he had as he pushed into her. He'd thought that getting it over quickly was the best way to do it, much like killing someone. But obviously, from Layla's reaction, he'd miscalculated. He'd felt her tear too. No wonder she'd almost screamed and then began to sob her heart out under him.

Removing his hand from her mouth, he tired to comfort her.

"Layla? Layla, listen ta me. It's ok. Its ok darlin', I told ya it'd hurt didn't I? It's normal."

Layla continued to cry. "No! You lied! You said you'd count down!" she sobbed.

"It coulda been worse babe. But it's all over now, it's only gonna get better from here." He reassured her gruffly as he cupped her face and kissed her sweat covered forehead. Layla continued to sniff and pout. Her eyes were puffy and her face felt sticky and wet. The ache in her lower body was still there and still burning but the feeling of having someone actually inside her body felt far too weird for her to want to acknowledge.

"Victor…" she finally sniffed. The sobs had quickly faded, but like the sting from between her legs, although she cringed as she continued to feel the bleed.

"What is it Lay?" if her mind hadn't been so fucking messed up at that moment in time, Layla would have swore she hear concern in Victor's voice.

She reached up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "My legs are cramping…."

Victor Creed, not being the average build of a man and with a waist Layla couldn't even get her arms all the way around, was being cradled by her legs and stretching them further than Layla even knew she could stretch them. He grunted some form of apology and grabbed hold of her shoulders again, before rolling and pulling himself up to lean against the sofa, with Layla facing him in his lap. The movement seemed to drive him further into her and stoke the fire in her abdomen. It caused her to gasp and clutch at him.

"Better?" he grinned lazily. Layla's head lolled clumsily around on her neck as she tried to nod.

"Good." Victor chuckled. His hand grabbed a fist full of her hair and pulled her forward into a hard, rough kiss while his hips bucked. Her inner muscles squeezed and tightened around him, making his head swim with pleasure.

"Victor!" Layla panted as she pulled away, her hands clawing helplessly at his chest. "I…I don't…know what to….do…" she gasped.

"Just let go." He growled and bit at her neck and shoulder.

Like everything else, Layla caught on quickly and the pairs coupling grew heated quickly. Claws extended absently and Victor found himself having to claw the sofa cushions behind his head in order to keep from hurting Layla any further.

When Layla's first orgasm broke, it took her breath away and peppered her vision with stars. She collapsed forward against Victor's chest and whimpered as he continued to drive hard into her until he eventually came with a hiss and strangled roar that almost choked him.


End file.
